


The Death of a Crewmate

by Closeted_Bookworm



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: (but not reader insert), Alternate Universe - Among Us (Video Game) Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, It's Among us of course there's major character death and violence, Mild Blood, Mild Gore, Murder Mystery, Reader-Interactive
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:46:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27085072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Closeted_Bookworm/pseuds/Closeted_Bookworm
Summary: George, our perceptive protagonist, is eager to make himself a home as part of the crew of the Skeld, but all his plans get derailed the moment he discovers that there is a murderer hiding in their crew.Get ready to dive into this deep space murder mystery, based on a game we know and love. Sometimes the things that go bump don’t wait for the night…(Audience gets to help the crewmates vote!)
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Darryl Noveschosch & Sapnap, Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Zak Ahmed & Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Darryl Noveschosch & Sapnap
Comments: 86
Kudos: 48





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> MCYT Among Us fic!
> 
> I'm trying to make this interactive. At the end of the chapter, after everyone's had their say, you can leave a comment saying who you think should be ejected. I've already decided who the impostors are and which characters have voted for who, but you can sway the decision!
> 
> Note: This is about their Minecraft personas, not the real people. This isn't a ship fic, just a straight up murder mystery :) Enjoy!
> 
> 2/7 Update: Off of hiatus! New chapter in a few hours. Thanks for the patience.

George eagerly looked over his list of tasks, determined to speed through them all as quickly as possible. It was his first day on the ship after a surprisingly brief training period (something about being “expendable,” whatever they meant by that), and he was excited to prove himself to the rest of the crew. Most of them were newbies like himself, and he hadn’t met all of them yet, but he was getting along well with the few he’d run into, especially Dream, another recent recruit. There was an important team meeting scheduled in a few minutes so they could exchange proper introductions, but he wanted to get a head start on his duties now. 

He’d just taken care of swiping his card in admin, and he was currently on his way to navigation to take care of his task there. However, a glance at his communicator revealed that he was running late to the meeting, so he switched courses and headed to the cafeteria, where almost everyone was already waiting for him. 

“George, excellent,” Phil commended as he took his seat, shaking George’s blue-gloved hand with his own green-clad one. “We’re just missing Sapnap, then.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than Sapnap skidded around the corner, the fiery red boots of his spacesuit squeaking across the tile as he ran over and plunked himself down at the table. George could hear his heavy breathing as he switched on his mike. 

“Sorry I’m late, lost track of time,” he sputtered. Dream, seated next to him in a lime green suit, lightly punched his shoulder and shook his head. 

“That’s okay, we haven’t started yet,” Phil excused him. “Now, as you guys know, the spaceship has had trouble keeping a steady crew, hence the appearance of so many new faces on board. My duty as your captain is to tell you the real reason why, since those jerks at the academy won’t.” He took a deep breath. “How much do you guys know about the species _etacilpud rotsopomi?_ ”

\---

George nervously trotted along the hallway towards electrical, side by side with Wilbur, whose bright yellow suit seemed ridiculously cheerful in light of their current situation. His list of tasks was displayed in the top left corner of the display built into his helmet, and he could see the notifications from the chat flashing across the bottom like news banners as the crewmates asked various questions about the ship’s layout and expressed their opinion about the danger they could be in.

George was experiencing some shock himself. Phil had explained that the crew had been repeatedly attacked by an alien species that took over the bodies of and impersonated crewmates. Nicknamed “Impostors,” they infiltrated ships and systematically murdered everyone on board so they could replicate without disruption. Phil, along with two other crewmates, BadBoyHalo and Skeppy, had been the only survivors of the latest killing spree, successfully rooting out and ejecting the guilty parties. They believed that everyone currently on board was safe, but had issued a warning just in case. 

The pair of them ventured carefully into the poorly-lit electrical maintenance room. Wilbur stayed back near the door to do his task, and George headed towards the back end of the room for his own. 

When he rounded the corner, he stopped dead in his tracks, the blood draining from his face as he took in the sight of Skeppy crumpled on the floor, his cyan suit splattered with red and a hole smashed through the face shield of his helmet. There was a large pool of blood beneath him that was inching its way closer to George’s feet. He screamed, the sound crashing around in his soundproof helmet as he fumbled with the button to turn on his mike. He was filled with the desire to turn off the colorblindness corrector in his helmet, hoping it would dull the overwhelmingly lurid colors of the scene, but he sadly could not. 

“Skeppy’s dead in electrical!” he yelled as soon as he got unmuted. The call was rapidly flooded with a chorus of gasps and cries as other people dropped whatever they were doing and took in this declaration. Everyone was talking over one another, a mixed bag of disbelief, fear, and anger.

“ _Guys, quiet down!_ ” someone (Techno, maybe? He couldn’t remember the name) yelled.

“Thank you,” Phil said. “Everyone, please remain calm and stay where you are. George, explain what happened.”

He tried to swallow the bile rising in the back of his throat. “I came into electrical with Wilbur to do my task. He stayed by the door, but I walked into the back section of the room and he was just lying there, suit cut open and bleeding everywhere.”

“Wilbur, are you still in electrical with him?” Phil asked. 

“Yeah. I’m by the door.”

“Everyone sound off,” their captain instructed. “Say your name and what room you’re in. Pink?”

“Techno, Lower Engine.”

“Red?”

“Sapnap, Medbay.”

“Orange?”

“Tubbo, I’m in that room to the right of the cafeteria.”

“That’s Weapons. Yellow?”

“Wilbur, Electrical.”

“Lime?”

“Dream, hallway by Nav.”

“I’m Green. Phil, Cafeteria. Cyan?”

Silence. George heard a choked sob from someone, and averted his eyes from the body in front of him. A flicker of movement caught his eye, and his gaze flashed over to the vent, but there was nothing there. He could have sworn he saw something. Didn’t Phil say Impostors could use the vents to get around? Where did that one go?

“Blue?”

“George, Electrical,” he stuttered. 

“Black?”

The only sound on the call was someone’s muffled hiccuping as he tried to regain control of himself. 

“Black, are you there?” Phil tried again.

“Yes, I am,” the person got out, his voice shaking.

“Bad, can you tell me where you are?” Phil asked gently.

“Security,” he responded softly.

“Thank you. White?” 

“Tommy, Weapons with Tubbo.”

George heard Phil let out a long breath that trailed into his next unfortunate sentence. “...Okay, I need everyone to listen very carefully. We have at least one Impostor on board, maybe more. Our new main objective is to find them and get them off the ship before they kill again. However, we still have to keep doing tasks, because we can’t land at our destination until everything is complete. There are a few things I didn’t tell you this morning you need to know. Impostors don’t just take over bodies. They act exactly like the person they took over would. They think, lie, make friends, and pretend to help fix the ship. We need to be _extremely_ careful who we trust.”

“How did they even get onto the ship?” Dream butted in. 

“I don’t know,” Phil sighed.

“Well, obviously one of us brought them in,” Tommy brazenly declared. 

“Is it even possible for one to live back on Mira? Could we eliminate anyone that way?” Wilbur asked. 

“I’ve heard about attacks at the HQ, but never on the planet’s surface. I think the atmosphere is toxic to them,” Techno supplied. “Probably anyone who’s spent a long time in space recently is more at risk.”

“But we all spent a week on Polus training,” Tubbo protested. “Someone could’ve been taken then?”

“True,” Techno conceded. “Who’s spent a lot of time off Mira? I had three weeks after my training on board a different ship.”

“Bad and I have been on the Skeld for three months,” Phil said.

“I’m fresh off Polus,” Sapnap stated.

“Same here,” George, Dream, and Tubbo agreed.

“I spent a couple days on the same crew as Techno before getting transferred here,” Tommy put in.

“I was with him,” Wilbur followed up. “We were there for three days.”

George suddenly noticed that Bad’s mike had been muted for their discussion. “Hey, Bad, are you all right?” he piped up. The little icon flashed, showing the mike was now tuned on. Bad wasn’t crying anymore.

“How are you guys so… analytical?” he murmured. “My best friend just died. We did everything together. I even went with him to electrical, but I had to leave him to go do my own tasks. I was the last one to see him alive.” His voice hitched. “I should have stayed with him longer. Maybe he wouldn’t have died.”

“I’m so sorry, Bad,” Wilbur said, sobered. “I wish we’d gotten to know him like you did.”

Dream, however, had caught onto a different part of what Bad had said. “What task did you have to do in security?” he asked curiously. 

“Wires.”

“Why not just do the ones in electrical and stick together?”

“Because I already did those.”

“Why did Skeppy’s take so much longer? What task was he doing?”

“I don’t know.”

“Techno, you were in Lower Engine, right? Did you see Bad go past you?” Dream asked.

“No, but I just barely got there when George called, so I could’ve missed him. Wilbur probably saw me go past from the door to electrical,” Techno responded.

“Yeah, I did,” Wilbur confirmed. “It was just after the two of us walked in. I didn’t see Bad in the hallway when we were walking either, though.”

“Am I seriously a suspect here?” Bad exploded. 

“Everyone is,” Dream said matter-of-factly. “Has anyone else been near electrical?”

“Tubbo and I have been together all morning,” Tommy answered. “Neither of us have.”

“I was near there earlier, but didn’t go in,” Sapnap said. “I went through cafeteria to medbay so I could scan, but I didn’t get to it yet.”

“I can confirm that’s the way he went,” Phil chimed in. “Techno, didn’t you have some stuff in electrical?”

“Yeah, but I haven’t gotten around to doing it yet. I want to get the harder stuff out of the way first.”

“Where were you before that?”

“I was wandering around Storage and Communications. Phil kept tailing me. I didn’t want him to give me more work, so I kinda just kept moving.”

“Weird,” Tommy commented.

“You were avoiding work just as much as me,” Techno shot back. 

“No, I wasn’t, I was helping Tubbo!”

“Stop it, guys,” Phil chided. George could practically hear the tension in his jaw as he continued. “Emergency protocol dictates we have to vote on who gets thrown off the ship.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now's the fun part! Drop the name of the person you think should be ejected in the comments below. You can also skip vote, or leave your reasoning to try and convince other people. Confirm ejections is turned off.
> 
> Thanks for reading and participating! Have fun.  
> P.S. I'm sorry Skeppy, you didn't even get dialogue X(
> 
> Edit: Voting is now closed! Thanks everyone for participating, I would still love to hear new theories.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning: While I’m doing my best and trying to do research, my knowledge of the various tasks isn’t perfect! The way in-story tasks are assigned and done/faked may be slightly different than in-game, and they’ve been exaggerated to fit the needs of the story. The way sabotage works/is fixed may also be altered. 
> 
> That said, enjoy! :D

ROUND ONE RESULTS:

Skipped vote: Sapnap, Tubbo, Phil, George, and BadBoyHalo +2 audience votes = 7

Technoblade: Wilbur +4 audience votes = 5 

**BadBoyHalo: Technoblade, Dream, and TommyInnit +5 audience votes = 8**

\---

“BadBoyHalo was ejected,” Phil tremblingly read off of their shared displays.

“What?” Bad stammered, a dangerous tremor in his voice. 

Everyone was silent, some tongues bound with shock, some with guilt. 

“He was my best friend…”

“Who’s near Security right now,” Phil asked, volume quiet but with steel in his voice. 

“I’m close,” Sapnap softly said.

A beat of silence.

“Me too,” Techno added.

“Will the two of you please bring BadBoyHalo to the airlock.”

“Phil, Skeppy was my friend- You’re my friend-”

“I’m sorry, Bad. You know I can’t back down.” 

Bad’s mike clicked off. George was still staring in disbelief at the results of the vote. He noticed that both Dream and Tommy had both voted for Bad’s ejection, and that Phil had abstained from the vote, choosing to skip. George had expected that, but he was surprised to see Wilbur had voted for Techno.

He could hear grunts from Sapnap and Techno coming through on his speakers, though Bad was still muted. It sounded like they must be dragging him all the way through the ship. He tried not to think about it too hard, walking dazedly to the front of the room to stand by Wilbur as they listened. 

He didn’t realize their path would take them past Electrical until suddenly he could see them from the open door. Techno and Sapnap were holding Bad under the arms, towing him down the hallway. The worst part was that he wasn’t even struggling. He was dead weight in their grasp, eyes shut tight and tears running down his cheeks. George wanted to close his eyes too, but he felt like he owed it to Bad to keep them open. Was he really a killer?

“He’s in the airlock now,” Sapnap told them a minute later. “Techno’s going to do it.”

“Bad, I’m sorry,” Phil exclaimed desperately. There was no response.

Red lights flashed around them, indicating the opening and closing of the airlock door. 

“It’s done,” Techno announced stoically. No one spoke for a long time, processing what had happened. Several people had muted their mikes, and he suspected at least one person was hiding sobs. He certainly felt like crying, but the tears weren’t coming.

Phil cleared his throat and shakily announced, “We’ll arrive on Polus in two days, and we have to have our tasks done before then. If you have evidence to report, go to the cafeteria and press the emergency button, and we’ll meet you there. Get on mike if someone dies.” He sounded like he had a frog caught in his throat, and he muted himself a moment later.

“What do we do about… the body?” Wilbur asked hesitantly, shell shocked. George saw him start to turn around, then change his mind and put his back firmly to the crime scene. 

“I’ll help you with it,” Techno offered, tone leaden. “I’m not squeamish. We can take it to Medbay and store it there. George, are you going to help?”

George apprehensively thought about the bloody corpse of his fellow crewmate. He had wanted to vomit every time he glanced in that direction. “Um…”

“You don’t have to.”

“No, I don’t want to.”

“On my way,” Techno said, muting himself. George turned off his own mike and hurried out of the room, leaving behind an anxious-looking Wilbur, who was twisting his hands and shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His tasks in Electrical could wait until there was no longer a dead body leering at him from the corner. 

Techno passed him in the hallway, walking with his shoulders back and tight and an intimidating scowl on his face. George didn’t miss the way his hands were trembling, though. He wondered how guilty he felt for ejecting Bad. He suddenly thought of the results of the vote. Wilbur had voted for Techno, but he couldn’t remember how Techno had voted. 

He walked slowly through Storage, every sense on high alert even though his helmet prevented any noise from reaching him. He paused by the door and started to reconnect the dozens of twisted wires in the fuse box there. Tubbo and Tommy walked past him, probably coming down from Cafeteria. He hoped they would stay away from Electrical and Medbay for a while, the pair were younger than the rest of the crew and he didn’t want them to see Skeppy’s remains if they didn’t have to. He wasn’t even sure if they were over eighteen or not. Mira had some questionable hiring practices. Thankfully, the two boys left in the direction of Communications. 

Once he’d finished the tedious task of untangling the infuriating knot of colored wires, he opened his messaging app and typed a question to Phil in his DMs. 

_How long do you think we have to find the Impostors?_

His notifications dinged. 

_They killed five people in 24 hours last time._

He sucked in a short breath. He was in more danger than he previously thought. They needed to find the culprits as soon as possible.

He swallowed his nerves and started heading towards Admin to fix the wires there, noticing the little red light that indicated someone was looking at the security cameras. He stood in clear view of the camera and started connecting filaments. No one would touch him if someone else was watching. 

He carefully closed the fuse box and glanced up at the active camera again, wondering who was in Security now. It was probably Phil or Dream, since they were the only ones he hadn’t seen so far. He supposed it could be Sapnap, but if he was heading for Security he would’ve followed Techno back past Electrical.

His question was answered by the appearance of Tommy and Dream from Storage, leaving Phil as the only option. He waved to them, and got a grin from Dream and a sideways glare from Tommy. His friend elbowed the younger crewmate and rolled his eyes, and Tommy gave him a reluctant wave. George chuckled and opened his DMs. 

_Where are you guys headed?_ he asked Dream.

 _Tommy still has to swipe his card, and I would rather stay with at least one other person, so I said I’d come too,_ his friend replied. 

_Cool. I’ll stay with you guys,_ he responded, turning towards Admin. Travelling in groups was probably much safer than being alone. The two of them stood against the wall and waited while Tommy entered the curtained booth where the card reader was. 

_We’re going back to Communications after this,_ Dream messaged him. _Tommy didn’t want to leave Tubbo for too long. He was doing a download task there and couldn’t come with us._

George nodded in affirmation. _I wish we could just unmute and talk to each other, it would be much easier,_ he lamented.

 _Yeah, that would be nice. We can talk face to face in the dorms later, though,_ Dream said. 

George glanced towards the booth. Tommy was taking an awfully long time. Dream seemed to share his opinion, judging by the suspicious look he was giving the closed curtain. He wished the helmets let in sound from the outside, then he would be able to hear the beep of Tommy’s card failing. 

At last, the young man emerged, sweeping the booth closed agitatedly and muttering under his breath, though they couldn’t tell what he was saying. 

_You good?_ George sent him.

 _Stupid card swipe,_ was all he got in return. A second later, Tommy’s eyes widened and he turned furiously to a chuckling Dream and flipped him off. George could guess at the insulting nature of Dream’s message from their reactions, and he held back his own giggles. 

Their laughter was cut off by a loud siren and red flashing lights. George instinctively tried to clap his hands over his ears, only to be stopped by the helmet. He rapidly flipped through his settings and turned down the deafening noise coming from the tiny speakers near his ears, then switched over to the main chat. It was erupting with messages clamoring for news on the emergency, and he gradually gathered from the bits and pieces people knew that something had gone wrong with one of the safety systems. 

_ANYONE WHO CAN SHOULD COME TO REACTOR NOW,_ Phil broadcasted in a banner across all their screens. _WE HAVE THIRTY MINUTES._

The three of them immediately left Admin and started towards the left side of the ship. A reactor meltdown would spell disaster for all of them. Tommy shot a glance over his shoulder towards Communications as they passed through Storage, looking for Tubbo. Dream shook his head and pointed forward, so he reluctantly kept following them. 

_He’ll meet us there,_ he shot off quickly as they walked. His download probably wasn’t finished yet. Tommy nodded, but still kept looking backwards. His angry expression had disappeared, replaced by furrowed brows that betrayed his worry. 

They arrived at the entrance to Reactor and met Phil, who was coming out of Security, confirming George’s earlier guess about who’d been on cams. 

_Excellent,_ their captain sent to the main chat. _Let’s start._

The four of them entered Reactor, and George gasped at the sight of the huge machine awash in red light, both from the alarms on the ceiling and the various warnings flashing across screens nearby. The normally blue plasma was glowing a violent scarlet as well, and there was a smoking hole in one of the metal panels on the side. 

_Remote-activated charge,_ Phil surmised, inspecting the damage. _This wasn’t a malfunction, it was sabotage from an Impostor. Any one of us could’ve set it off from our helmet screens._

Dream headed towards the closet at the bottom of Reactor and pulled open the door, waving George over. Together they hauled a heavy replacement panel over to the machine while Tommy retrieved a tool kit and Phil made sure none of the tanks had cracked. Satisfied, he indicated that they could remove the damaged plate. Tommy grabbed the drill and started taking out the screws while George got onto the computer and shut off the siren, sifting through the data flashing across the screen to assess the problems they needed to fix. 

Around his third chart into the mess of statistics, Wilbur walked into the room, and Phil told him to help George. Together they flipped through screen after screen of diagrams and spreadsheets, picking out the anomalies.

Thankfully, the reactor was the same model as the one they’d trained with on Polus, and they quickly isolated where the issue was and relayed the information to the others. Once Tommy pulled the panel off, the five of them swiftly set to work, replacing the mangled parts with new ones taken from the closet. Repairs moved quickly with all of them helping, and soon they were able to carefully fit the new plate into place and bolt it down. 

Phil walked over to the computer at the top of Reactor and pointed towards the one at the bottom, and Dream quickly ran over to man the correct button. Together, they reset the machine and returned the lights in the room to a soft blue, the plasma changing back to its beautiful cyan hue. 

_More than ten minutes to spare,_ Phil typed. George sighed in relief, shoulders slumping. Dream slapped him on the back in congratulations, and they grinned at each other. George looked to Tommy, but he was already hurrying away without a word, most likely in search of Tubbo. Wilbur followed a moment later, turning down the hallway to Upper Engine. He wondered where the rest of the crew had ended up. Techno and Sapnap hadn’t made it to Reactor at all. 

_Back to tasks,_ their captain instructed. 

_Will you come with me to cams?_ Dream asked him. _I want to see where the others are._

George nodded, giving him a thumbs up in lieu of an answer. They left Reactor and crossed the hallway to Security, his friend making a beeline for the wall of monitors. However, no one was in view when he switched them on except Wilbur, who was heading past Medbay to Cafeteria. They sat down at the desk, keeping their eyes peeled for movement. 

Someone’s mike crackled to life, and George’s heart dropped into his shoes as Tommy’s voice came through his speakers. 

“Tubbo is dead!” he screamed, blowing out his microphone and possibly George’s eardrums in the process. The automatic censoring mechanism in their helmets had its hands full as he continued. “Tubbo’s ███████ dead and you ███████ wouldn’t let me ███████ go back for him. I’m gonna ███████ kill whoever did this, mark my words, █████.”

“Where is the body, Tommy?” Phil said sternly.

“He’s lying in Comms with his ███████ head turned around ███████ backwards.” 

“The censor sound is going to give me a headache if you don’t stop that soon,” Techno groaned. 

“Oh, really? Does this ███████ bother you?” Tommy fired back. “Well how about you ███████ lose your ███████ best friend and we’ll see how much you ███████ swear.”

“Come talk to me when you’ve lost both parents and a sibling,” Techno replied bitterly. “I want those monsters dead as much as you do. You’re not special.”

“Guys, stop it,” Wilbur butted in. “Let’s get the facts straight. Who was the last one to see him?”

“I left him in Comms to go to admin with Dream,” Tommy spat. “Just before the ███████ reactor blew up.”

“Please stop swearing,” Phil admonished. “Did anyone see him after the reactor went off?”

They all said they hadn’t. 

“I just want to point out that I didn’t actually see Tubbo when Tommy came out of Comms,” Dream mentioned. “Theoretically, he could have already been dead when Tommy met me in the hallway.”

“You really think I killed him?” Tommy exploded. “What about Techno and Sapnap, huh? They never showed up to help us with the reactor, one of them must’ve done it. Everyone else is accounted for.” 

“I was finishing my download task in Nav,” Sapnap supplied. “I had already spent forever waiting for that stupid thing when the alarm went off, no way was I going to start it over again if you guys were just going to fix the problem anyway.”

“Is the download still finishing?” Phil asked.

“No, it ended just before you guys got the reactor back online. I tried to come find you, but Techno accosted me in Cafeteria.” George could hear irritation in the other man’s voice. 

“You two are both in Cafeteria right now?” Dream said, surprised. “Why were you there, Techno? Do you have a task?”

“No,” Techno replied. “I was-

“Yeah, what _were_ you doing, Techno?” Tommy interrupted angrily. “Skulking around in a vent?”

“Do you want to know, or are you just going to let your emotions run away with your head?” he said exasperatedly. “I was in Cafeteria because it occurred to me that making everyone head towards the left end of the ship would be a great way to make sure a body on the right end wasn’t found before the killer could get away. I figured I’d wait around in Cafeteria and see who was coming through. And lo and behold, Sapnap came waltzing out of the hallway to Weapons without a care in the world a full fifteen minutes after Phil had sent an urgent message telling us to come quickly.”

“I already said I was finishing my download. You spent three weeks on a ship already, you know how painful they are to do. You didn’t have to grab my arm and start interrogating me in the DMs. Did you really spend the whole fifteen minutes just sitting there waiting for someone?” Sapnap asked accusingly. 

“That is where he said he was going when we split up,” Wilbur put in. “He left right after the siren went off.”

“And I saw him enter Cafeteria on cams,” Phil seconded. “I can’t vouch for anything after that though. Wilbur, why were you so late getting to Reactor if you guys were in Medbay? That’s fairly close by.”

“I was finishing with, uh…” there was a healthy pause, “...Skeppy,” he finished softly. George’s stomach rolled over. He knew there was a cryogenic morgue on the Skeld, but he never imagined he’d see it used. 

“I think it was Techno,” Tommy furiously declared. “Dream and George were with me the entire time after I last saw Tubbo, so it couldn’t be them, Phil has been camping cams ever since we last talked, Sapnap was messaging me complaining about his download like every two minutes, and I don’t know about Wilbur but at least he showed up. Techno is the only one without an alibi.”

“Except you,” Dream reminded them. “You were the only one we know he was alone with, and you found the body. Maybe he was dead before the reactor was sabotaged, or you murdered him once you got back from fixing the reactor and then reported it.”

“ _I didn’t ███████ kill him!_ ” Tommy yelled.

“Stop _swearing_ ,” Techno moaned, his tone of voice carrying the plain image of him clutching his head.

“Make me, old man. █████████████-” Tommy’s mike cut off. Phil had muted him. Angry messages started popping up in chat, still dotted with censored profanity.

“We need to vote,” Phil told them. 

George stole a glance at Dream, noticing his set jaw and clenched fist as he confidently voted. He hesitantly locked in his own decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now it's time to vote! Drop the name of the person you think is the most sus in the comments. 
> 
> The identity of the impostors and the crew’s own votes are predetermined, but votes from you, the reader, will sway the results one way or the other :)
> 
> Confirm ejects is turned off.
> 
> Rip Tubbo. ;-;
> 
> Edit 12/11/20: Voting is now closed! Thanks again for participating, feel free to keep weighing in on your opinion in the comments ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, I got writer's block on this like you wouldn't believe. But we're back, and this chapter is longer than the other two put together!
> 
> Y'all have decided red is sus.

ROUND 2 VOTING RESULTS:

Skipped vote: +1 audience vote = 1

Technoblade: Tommy, Wilbur, Sapnap +1 audience vote = 4

Tommy: Dream, Phil, George +4 audience votes = 7

**Sapnap: Technoblade +6 audience votes = 8**

Wilbur: +1 audience vote = 1

**Sapnap was ejected.**

* * *

The results of the vote flashed across their screens, and George’s speakers erupted with noise as Techno started yelling that Sapnap was running and Wilbur screamed for him to stop. Dream grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet, darting towards the door. 

“He had to have gone to Weapons, or we would’ve seen him on cams by now!” he called over his shoulder, skidding around the corner to Lower Engine and towing George behind him. They sprinted past Electrical and through Storage, angry shouting from Wilbur and Techno pounding on their eardrums. They burst into the hallway by Comms just as Sapnap appeared from Shields. 

Dream dashed towards him and knocked him to the ground with a flying tackle when he tried to turn around. Moments later, Techno rounded the corner and immediately planted himself on Sapnap’s kicking legs so Dream could pin his torso more easily. Wilbur arrived, panting, a few seconds after. 

“Stay down,” Techno grunted as Sapnap bucked under the pair. 

“Let me up!” he screamed. “I didn’t do it.”

“Why would you run?” George questioned. 

“Because I’d rather fight than be a sobbing martyr like Bad.”

Phil stumbled in from Shields, breathing hard. “Good job, you two.”

Sapnap snarled at him, and he winced.

“Where’s Tommy?” Techno asked.

“I’m right here, you murdering ████!” the crewmate in question shrieked, barreling out of Communications and slamming into him, sending the two of them rolling across the floor. A wrestling match erupted, Tommy trying his best to bruise through the thick fabric of their space suits. 

Dream hissed in pain as the now half-freed Sapnap landed a well-placed kick to his back, and George rushed to help him hold him down. Wilbur waffled on the edge of the conflicts, torn between wading in to separate the brawling pair and staying out of the fight. 

In the end there was no need to intervene. Techno ended up kneeling with his foot on Tommy’s back and his arm twisted behind him, both breathing hard. The teenager was hurling increasingly creative insults his way whenever he had air, craning to look up from where his helmet was pushed into the floor. 

Techno refused to respond and did not protest when Phil pulled him off and placed himself between the two. Tommy scrambled to his feet full of venom and ready to jump back in for a second round, but reluctantly obeyed when their captain put up a calming hand and told him to back down. 

“We must abide by the results of the vote,” Phil reprimanded. 

“Fine,” Tommy spat, body full of tension, “but I don’t believe for a second that he’s innocent. I’ll get him voted out if I have to go down with him.”

“That’s what’s going to happen if you don’t have an airtight alibi when there’s another murder,” Dream coolly informed him. “You’re still a suspect.”

“You mean ‘if’ there’s another murder, right?” Wilbur nervously asked. His laid-back demeanor from that morning had almost entirely dropped away, leaving him an anxious wreck wringing his hands and shifting from one foot to the other. “Surely that’s all of them, we’ve ejected two people.”

“Not yet you haven’t, halfwit,” Sapnap snapped from the floor, “and if possible I’m going to keep it that way.”

Phil’s expression hardened. “Techno, help these two get him to the airlock. Wilbur and Tommy, please transport the corpse to Medbay.”

Tommy stomped back to the door to Comms, shoving Wilbur away as he passed. “I’m doing it alone. He was supposed to see the stars, now he never will. You guys don’t get to touch him.” 

He vanished into the shadows of the crime scene, turning off his mike. Phil issued final instructions before they split off.

“Report back to Cafeteria in thirty minutes for the meal, then we’re retiring for the night.”

“Sure, treat me like another routine task to complete,” Sapnap got out through gritted teeth, trying desperately to writhe out of their grasps as they hauled him to his feet. George kept his hold on his arm, unable to look him in the eye as Techno gathered up his kicking legs and Dream readjusted his grip on his other side. 

They dragged him back towards Storage. Their helmets started echoing with the censor beep as his struggles and insults increased in vehemence and intensity, and George wished fervently he could block out the noise. Tight knots were building in Techno’s shoulders. 

“Phil, can’t you mute him?” Dream shouted over the bristling jabs assaulting their eardrums. They didn’t get a response, though their captain was still unmuted.

“Let’s just get it over with,” Techno grumbled. George winced. The other two’s calloused attitudes did not make this any easier. He wished he could leave them to it and run off to do a task somewhere. Anywhere but the airlock. But that was unfortunately not an option.

* * *

Almost everyone seemed thoroughly determined to ignore one another as they picked up their rations from the Cafeteria. Phil was the only one who said anything aloud, directing them to their spots for food pickup and unlocking the trapdoor that led down to the dorms. 

George looked down at his food packet with an uneasy turning in his gut, Sapnap’s screams as they pushed the button to eject him still haunting his ears. He took the ration anyway, knowing that he would need to eat at some point or he’d be a mess the next day, but he wasn’t sure if he could stomach the thought of food at the moment. 

He sat down at a bench to wait for Dream so they could head down to the dorms together, and a moment later Wilbur sat down beside him. 

_Do you have room for me to bunk with you tonight?_ he DMed. 

_No, sorry,_ George messaged back. _Only have two beds, both taken. Why?_

_I don’t want to be in a room alone, and Techno said he’d rather stay by himself. Tommy won’t message me back._

George frowned. _I don’t want to be on my own either, but did you ask Dream if he’d want to switch or something? He’s my roommate._

Wilbur brightened and turned back to his messages. Dream paused what he was doing as he read it, then nodded in their direction. Wilbur’s shoulders slumped as he sighed in relief. 

_Thanks, man,_ he told George. _You want to head down now?_

He nodded, and the two got up to leave. George sent a quick text to the main chat telling everyone they were turning in for the night and letting them know about the rooming change, then they climbed down the ladder into the dormitory hallway. 

The dorms, located below the cafeteria on the underbelly of the Skeld, were set up in a long hallway, with three rooms on each side and the captain's quarters at the end. There was a plaque on each door indicating who was sleeping where, though one of the rooms on the right side was unlabeled and empty since the ship was understaffed when it launched. The lower than average number sent on the mission was also why Wilbur was never assigned a roommate. 

George tapped his crewmate on the shoulder and indicated the first door on the right, where he and Dream were supposed to sleep, but Wilbur shook his head and pointed further down the hallway. 

_I’ve got to get my stuff first,_ he said. 

George nodded and sent back, _Just ring the doorbell when you want to get inside._

The two parted ways, and he turned to his own room and swiped his keycard in the lock. 

He stepped through the sliding door into the airlock, glad for the noise cancelling abilities of his helmet as the loud fans of the chamber replaced the air of the upper portion of the ship with a breathable mixture of gasses. 

He removed his helmet, stripped off his spacesuit, and hung them on the hooks provided as the door opened with a hiss and a thunk. He took a deep breath of the air and heaved a sigh of relief, glad to be free of the constricting attire. As high-tech as the suits were, being able to get out of them at the end of the day was one of the best feelings in the world. He stepped the rest of the way into the room, the door sliding shut behind him with another loud thump.

The dorms were spartan as far as decoration and furnishings were concerned, but they were strangely cozy nonetheless. Not to mention secure. The intimidating deadbolts on the airlock kept it sealed, only opening if they swiped one of the keycards linked to it or opened it manually from the inside. Only he or Dream, since it was their room, could open their door from the hallway once it had been locked. The entire dorm was also reinforced several times over and could be converted into an escape pod in the event of an emergency. Unfortunately, murderous parasites apparently weren't enough of a justification to use that feature. 

The room he was in now was sort of a common room, with a table, two chairs, and a couple cabinets. He’d looked in them that morning, they contained a pair of ancient laptops, a battered deck of cards, and a jigsaw puzzle probably left by the previous occupants. 

The bedrooms were similarly austere. The identical chambers, separated from the common room by thick metal sliding doors, each contained nothing but a bed and a cupboard to store clothes in. The floors and walls were plain sheet metal, but they’d been allowed to bring a light bag of belongings from their homes to personalize the space a little. George had chosen a poster from his swim team back home, a small felted rug a friend had made for him, a pen, and his journal. 

He grabbed the last two items out of his room and sat down at the table, opening to the next blank page. He jotted down the date at the top, lowered his pen to the paper, and stopped. Everything that had happened that day suddenly hit home and he was lost for how to start. 

He took a deep breath and began with the easy stuff, his conversation with Dream that morning after they woke up and the meeting where they learned about Impostors. Then he hesitantly wrote about finding Skeppy in electrical, unable to prevent the image from springing back into his head. Next he wrote about Bad, then Tubbo, and finally Sapnap. He couldn’t shake their faces from his mind. He hoped Wilbur was right, and the Imposters really were gone now. 

A loud buzz echoed through the room, and he flinched violently. He’d forgotten about the doorbell. It must be Wilbur coming back with his stuff. Before he could get up to answer him, though, the airlock door hissed open, and through the thick glass he saw Dream and Wilbur enter together, Dream pocketing his own keycard and Wilbur with a worn-out backpack slung over one shoulder. 

He closed his journal as the door slid open and let them in, Wilbur hanging his suit next to George’s and Dream electing to only remove his helmet. 

“Thanks again for agreeing to switch,” Wilbur told Dream, who set his helmet on the table and waved his hand dismissively. 

“It’s no big deal,” he replied, sitting down beside George. “Are you doing okay?” he asked him. “You seem on edge.”

“You’re not?” he said, voice tight. He pushed his chair back a few inches, bracing his hands against the edge of the table. He still saw the faces of the dead whenever he closed his eyes. 

Dream leaned back, smiling slightly. “I mean, we’re safe in here. While the three of us are together there’ll always be an eyewitness if someone tries something, and if you’re alone all you’ve gotta do is keep the door shut. No point in giving yourself an aneurysm when you don’t need to. I’ll go back on high alert later.”

Wilbur shot him a fearful look. “You keep acting like they’re not gone. We surely got rid of them all.”

“We don’t know that for sure,” Dream commented. “I for one am planning on keeping my guard up.”

“Let’s talk about something else,” George interrupted, standing up and making a beeline for the playing cards. “Do you guys know any card games?”

* * *

George went to bed that night with a new understanding of the word embarrassment. It turns out that while he and Wilbur were absolute rubbish at poker, Dream was hiding some hidden talents. He wasn’t sure why he was so shocked. 

Instead of betting money, they had bet secrets. Winner got to ask a question to one of the losers, and they weren’t allowed to lie. By the time they stopped, Wilbur had been forced to recount several mortifying experiences from the awkward days of teenagerhood, and George had been prodded into revealing his cringe-worthy first kiss. Dream’s life remained a frustrating mystery. 

After card games, Wilbur had opened his bag and pulled out, to the other two’s great surprise, a ukulele. He’d explained that he preferred the guitar, but he didn’t have enough room to bring it, so he packed the smaller instrument instead. They’d spent almost a half hour singing and laughing, and George was almost able to abandon the rock of worry sitting heavy in his stomach. 

Now that Dream had left and they’d retreated to their own rooms, however, the anxiety was returning in full force. It completely overshadowed his happiness from the evening, making it nearly impossible to fall asleep. He just wasn’t tired. He tossed and turned, cyclical thoughts running rampant through his brain. Once he could get to sleep, he would be out like a light and a foghorn wouldn’t wake him, but the lead up was a pain.

He pressed his face into his pillow and groaned. He wasn’t making any progress. He got up and started pacing, wearing a track around the perimeter of his room. In addition to the large lock on the airlock door, each bedroom locked individually, and he checked the deadbolt every time he passed. 

He was pretty sure he could trust Wilbur, or he wouldn’t have switched roommates, but there was still that nagging uncertainty that he couldn’t really rely on anyone. Even Dream, who he wanted to believe more than anyone, could be a murderer. And the cavalier attitude he’d had all night was a bit grating, to put it lightly. 

After what must’ve been a half hour or more of restless back and forth, his eyelids were finally starting to droop closed. He dropped into bed with a long sigh, sleep taking him at last.

* * *

He awoke the next morning a few minutes before his alarm was supposed to go off, his old habits from Mira not going down without a fight. He liked being up a bit earlier than he needed to be, he still had an hour before he had to report for breakfast. With any luck, he would have a few minutes to write letters to wire back to his family. 

He pulled on a fresh set of clothes and slipped his card into his pocket, then smoothed the covers on his bed, taking his time. There wasn’t any noise coming from the common room, so Wilbur must still be asleep. 

He opened the door. Wilbur was not asleep. 

He was everywhere. He stained the walls, the ceiling, the floor, in every place he looked there were splatters of him. When he’d found Skeppy, there had only been one injury, a clean punch through his helmet. Wilbur was crumpled in the middle of the room, full of more holes than a slice of swiss cheese. It looked like he’d been picked up and slammed against the walls over and over again, and sickening body-sized sprays of blood adorned every side of the common room. 

He was almost unrecognizable. The biggest wound had gone through his lower jaw and the back of his neck, nearly separating his head from his body. His limbs were splayed at odd angles, and his right hand was gone entirely. George’s eyes flew to the ukulele that same hand had cheerfully been strumming the night before, still sitting innocently on the table atop an open notebook that must’ve come from Wilbur’s bag. 

He felt ill, his empty stomach violently considering sending up whatever it could. He faintly remembered he’d never eaten his dinner ration. That was out of the question now. He fell heavily against the doorframe, white as a sheet. This had happened _while he was asleep in the next room_. He touched his own neck with a shaking hand, feeling his Adam's apple move as he swallowed with some difficulty. This could’ve been him. 

A few synapses fired, and he loosely gathered that he needed to get to his suit so he could report the death. He padded like a ghost around the edge of the room, half-coagulated blood squeaking under the soles of his shoes with a disgusting squelching sensation. The airlock let him in with a hiss and a thunk, and he pulled himself together enough to seal his suit properly before stepping out into the silent hallway.

He sat down against the wall and tried to take deeper breaths, trembling slightly as he flicked on his microphone. 

“Is anyone else awake?”

No answer.

A little louder. “Someone please help, Wilbur is dead.”

No one responded. He needed to wake someone else up, but he couldn’t seem to make himself stand up. He put his head between his knees and focused on breathing, knowing he needed to calm down before he could trust himself to walk. His head was spinning and he felt dizzy and confused. Maybe he was in shock. Or this was a panic attack. 

A few minutes later, a door on the other side of the hallway slid open, and his head shot up as he scrambled backwards on instinct. Techno stepped out into the passage and gave him a confused look, which rapidly hardened into anger when he spotted the bottom of his boots. The red was glaringly obvious against the blue. 

“Care to explain _that?_ ” he growled, pointing an accusing finger at his footwear. 

He looked up at him with a pleading expression, realizing how bad this was going to look. “It’s Wilbur… He was just there when I woke up…”

A trace of fear flashed across Techno's face, and he hauled him to his feet. “Show me.”

He obediently swiped his card and let his crewmate into the airlock. He tried to stay out in the hallway, but he yanked him in after him. With the first set of doors behind them, they could partially see into the room through the blood-smeared glass. George stared at the corner, avoiding both eye contact and the sight that awaited them when the doors slid open. 

Techno gasped as he was confronted with the full extent of the gore, and George’s stomach turned over again. He stared at the ground, gaze traveling away from his own bloody blue shoes and focusing on Techno’s pink ones.

Which were stained a brownish maroon on the left heel.

Something in him froze. Techno had blood on his boots, the same as George, but he hadn’t set foot in the crime scene yet. He slapped the button to close the airlock door before they could go into the common room, just wanting to get back into the hallway and wake someone else up. He didn’t want to be alone with him. 

“Why’d you do that?” Techno protested, rounding on him. 

“We’ve gotta wake everyone else up first,” he mumbled, trying to DM Dream. Surely he’d be awake. He was an early riser like George. Please, please let him put his suit on soon.

The door opened, and he dashed back into the passage, making a beeline for his former roommate’s room. He jammed his thumb on the buzzer a few times, pleading for him to open the door. Then he crossed the hall and rang Tommy and Phil’s doorbells as well, hoping they were light enough sleepers that the loud noise would wake them up. 

Techno followed him at a distance, narrowing his eyes at the panicked glaze on his face as he darted back over to Dream’s door and pressed the button again. He re-opened his messages, but there weren’t any new ones. 

He heard a new mike click on, and he heaved a sigh of relief as his friend’s icon popped up. 

“George, is that you outside my door?” Dream asked suspiciously. 

“It’s me and Techno,” he replied. “Please come out.”

“So long as there’s two of you. You’re both there, right?”

“Yes, we are,” Techno verified. “You’d better get out here, we’ve got a situation and it’s not pretty.”

There was a pregnant pause as Dream digested the implication behind that statement and struggled for words. 

“Crap,” is what he decided on. They heard the hiss of the airlock opening through his mike, then the thick metal door let him into the hallway. His gaze swung back and forth from Techno’s stoic fear to George’s glassy shock, some of the color draining from his cheeks. His cheery bravado from the night before was nowhere to be found. 

“It’s Wilbur,” he deduced. 

“Brutally,” Techno confirmed. “The worst one yet. I think it broke your friend, you’ve gotta fix him. I’m no good with people.”

Dream jumped into action, gently taking George by shoulders and making eye contact as he hesitantly smiled. “Earth to George. Hey, you all right?”

“No…” his friend replied quietly, shaking off the grip and going for a hug instead. He’d worry about trust later, he just needed one right now.

Techno coughed awkwardly. “I’m going to get the others up while you two sort out the feelings stuff.” 

He started alternating between the door to the captain’s quarters and Tommy’s room while Dream talked George down from some of his panic. Soon, Phil was up and on mike, instantly taking charge as they listened to him struggling into the rest of his suit.

“Techno, keep trying to get Tommy up, he usually barely wakes up in time for breakfast so he won’t have an alarm set. We’ll examine the crime scene together, then go over the facts in the cafeteria.” His door opened as he finished talking, and he joined Techno in ringing the buzzer on Tommy’s door. 

George saw a few messages pop up in the main chat, and he opened it to see their captain asking their last missing crewmate if he was awake yet. Surprisingly, he noticed it wasn’t the first message sent that day. He scrolled up to see a message from Tommy, sent at 1:21 that morning.

_Who’s outside buzzing at my door?_

A minute later. _Would you shut up? I’m trying to sleep._

And then: _Okay fine I’m coming. Better be important._

That was the end of it until Phil’s texts. He and his visitor must’ve switched to DMs, or just talked in person. He frowned. The one-sided exchange set off several alarm bells in his head.

“Who went to his room last night?” he asked the others.

“What do you mean?” Phil questioned. 

“From the main chat it looks like he let someone into his room last night, who was it?”

“Not me, I went to bed pretty much right after I left you guys last night. Would’ve been 11 o’clock at the latest,” Kendall explained. 

“I turned in around midnight after updating the ship’s log, and I didn’t talk to anyone,” Phil supplied. 

“I was asleep by 10,” Techno said.

Dream’s mood dropped as he read the specifics of the messages sent early that morning. “Oh _crap_. We’ve gotta get in there _now_. I also heard buzzing last night. Whichever one of us it was isn’t owning up to it. It was the Impostor trying to attack people.”

George’s heart sank into his shoes as his mind conjured up another image like the one in his own room, with a bloody desecrated corpse painting the walls in a macabre Pollock. His face blanched again, and the nausea was threatening a comeback.

“Isn’t there another key?” Techno pressed. 

“Sadly, no,” Phil lamented. “It’ll only take the keycards linked to it, and those are calibrated back on Polus. I’m as locked out of the closed rooms as the rest of you are.”

“The power tools!” Dream blurted out. “We’ll take the door off like the panels on the reactor. It’ll ruin the air seal, but we have to get in there.”

“Or we could use Tubbo’s card instead. They were roommates,” Techno suggested dryly.

“Or that. That sounds good,” Dream acquiesced. 

“It’s probably still in his suit,” Phil informed them. “I can go get it.”

“I’ll come with you,” Dream added.

“Don’t!” George interrupted, grabbing his arm. Everyone looked at him dubiously. He cleared his throat. “I don’t think we should split up right now.”

“That’s fair,” Techno agreed. George looked away, unwilling to admit it was him he didn’t want to be left alone with.

“Okay, then,” Phil announced. “To Medbay, then we’ll investigate Tommy and Wilbur’s rooms.”

George’s gut tensed at the thought.

* * *

The sight that awaited them in the locked room was as disturbing as the one he’d woken up to. Tommy had been stabbed through the heart, the gaping wound punching clean through his chest to the other side. The amount of force that would require must’ve been astronomical. His death would’ve been quick. 

He was lying in a wide pool of his own blood, the shattered glass of his helmet scattered like glittering stars around his face. His eyes were open, permanently frozen wide in terror. 

They left the room quickly.

The others were as horrified by Wilbur’s death as he’d been, and Phil turned a similar shade of green to his suit when the door opened. Dream was more composed, though his fists were continually clenching and unclenching. He took a few hesitant steps into the room, trying to avoid the worst of the blood as he picked his way over to the table and grabbed the notebook lying on top of it.

He rejoined them in the airlock, handing the journal to George. 

“I thought you might want your diary back, it’s not too messed up,” his friend said. 

“This isn’t mine,” he responded, turning it over. There was a gold-embossed treble clef on the cover. He opened it, scanning the first page. “It’s where Wilbur wrote songs,” he sadly surmised. 

As the four of them climbed up the ladder and entered the cafeteria, he flipped through the book, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. It was full of lyrics and hand-written chord progressions, edits jotted messily in the margins. It was about half full. 

Turning to the last filled in page, he saw a hastily written note:

_Somebody’s ringing at the door, I’m worried they need help. If whatever’s chasing them gets me, George was asleep the whole time, it wasn’t him. I tried waking him up, but his door’s locked._

Now he really was crying. He handed the journal back to Dream, pointing at the message.

“Well, that’s one person eliminated, George’s got an alibi,” he said, showing the others and resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

“This Impostor used the same technique on both people, then. Dream, you said you also heard your doorbell?” Phil asked.

“Yeah, it woke me up a few hours after I fell asleep but I just waited until it stopped and went back to sleep. Did you guys hear anything?”

“If they buzzed my room, it didn’t wake me up,” Techno said.

“I didn’t hear anything either,” Phil added. 

“Well, one of us is lying,” Dream accused. 

The statement hung uneasily in the air as they sat down at one of the tables. Distrustful looks were flung about like stones. George sat at the corner, shoulders hunched and closed in on himself. 

“Techno, why do you have blood on your boot?” he suddenly asked. He looked at him in surprise, then down at his shoe. 

“Oh,” he said, sounding genuinely surprised. “I don’t know. Probably from Electrical yesterday, when I helped move Skeppy’s body. I thought I’d gotten it all off.”

That sounded plausible enough. But he still was having trouble buying it. 

“What evidence do we even have to go on?” Dream sighed. “It could’ve been literally any of us. Except George, of course.”

“Do we know that?” Techno put forward doubtfully. “What if he wrote the note himself to shake off suspicion?”

“The handwriting proves it wasn’t him,” Phil refuted, taking the book and flipping to a different page. “See, the message matches the other stuff in here.”

“He might know how to forge. I’ve got a friend who can make his handwriting look more like mine than my own does.”

“That’s ridiculous!” George sputtered. He was supposed to be the only safe one here.

“I’m just saying he’s suspicious. He and one of the victims were locked in a room together, and the doorbell _supposedly_ woke his roommate but not him.”

“It didn’t wake you or me either,” Phil butted in. 

“Assuming that the Impostor actually did ring our buzzers. We don’t know if he did. I wouldn’t put it past him to confuse us like that.”

“ _This_ is the theory you’re doubling down on?” their captain said in disbelief.

“Do you have a better one? We have no evidence! Both rooms were locked, no traces left behind except a note written under suspicious and unknown circumstances, and one guy who is so ‘traumatized’ that he can’t seem to come up with any way to refute my claims.”

“I swear it wasn’t me!” George reiterated, painfully aware that Techno was right, he didn’t have anything concrete to prove him wrong. 

“It sounds to me like you’re deflecting,” Phil deduced. “We’ve got to look at the whole picture. George was with Dream almost the entire time yesterday, there was no way he was the one who killed Tubbo. You, on the other hand, are still under suspicion for that. Maybe you took out Tommy to prevent him from voting you out after the next murder. Plus, Wilbur voted for you the first time. You were getting rid of those who wanted you gone.”

“That’s preposterous,” he scoffed. “Even if I really was the Impostor, do you think I’d be stupid enough to incriminate myself like that? Everyone knew we had beef after he tackled me yesterday, of course they’d try to pin a murder on me. How about you? Where were you when someone was snapping a teenager’s neck?”

“I was fixing the reactor, unlike you. Plus, the other two can tell you the cams light was on for almost an hour before that. I was in security, there’s no faking that.”

“That is true,” Dream volunteered. “But we also have to remember we ejected Sapnap. He could’ve been an Impostor. That murder might already be solved.”

“In which case we’d be back to square one,” George groaned. “If only there were cameras in the common rooms.”

“We’ve got to vote someone out, and I think it should be George,” Techno staunchly insisted. 

“Then I think you’re going to be the only one voting for him,” Dream declared, opening his voting screen.

* * *

Diagram of dorms: [ Skeld Dormitories ](https://docs.google.com/drawings/d/1zU0gYntLNR_O8A2qE69XNg4dadifT-2wf2Qgn_Hvbyo/edit?usp=sharing)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two imposters on board, two ejections, yet here we are, with two more dead! At least one of the sacrificed crew members was innocent. 
> 
> Look back over rounds one and two, along with these murders, and decide which voting results were mistakes and which corrupt crewmates are concealing carnivorous tendencies. Drop the name of the person you think is the most sus in the comments.
> 
> The identity of the impostors and the crew’s own votes are predetermined, but votes from you, the reader, will sway the results one way or the other. Confirm ejects is turned off.
> 
> I’d like to open up the comments for questions! You can ask anyone about any of the rounds, and I’ll comment their answer. There is no guarantee they will be truthful, but this is your chance to gather additional evidence. Good luck!


	4. Voting Call?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The vote's tied, I need some help from readers :]

Hello! I'm back, not with a new chapter, but to say that I can't start writing it yet if the vote's tied up, lol. The Chapter 3 decision needs you, the readers, to help make it. Remember that this time around you can ask questions to the crewmates in the comments! Please leave your vote on Chapter 3 if you can. Thank you!


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